"The sky is darkest before dawn." That is a good way to describe my fight with the vexglove root. Things simply had to just get worse before they could begin to get better. I had not even thought it could get worse.

The dream that I believe I could consider the crest of the ordeal started somewhat peculiarly. I awoke sitting at the desk in my office, which is not too different from a normal day in my life here in Songring. The main difference, as far as I could see, was that there were no engravings on the sandstone-brick walls around me. Instead, I was looking at decorative shapes in blue paint scrawled across the walls. They all looked familiar. This soon made sense to me as I looked out the window behind my desk to see the Light Waters lapping against the steep inclines in the noonday sun. I rushed to the window to view the settlement that I could still remember, no longer seeing the destroyed dormitories or flooded dining hall. I got to witness the pleasant view of what it used to be: Of ponies wandering around on the sandy beach around a bright and colorful dining hall with laughter and smiles all around. The dormitory door swung open slowly as Willow wandered out of it and stretched with a yawn, ready to start his day with a small smile and continue his work on the fence around Springfield's little plot of farmland. Ponies carried buckets of water back from the Songring Purifier on the other side of the inlet beach, and the sun caused all of the land in front of my eyes to glimmer with a happy light.

"Ben! Aren't you going to come upstairs? I needed to speak with you!" I heard called to me in a familiar breathy voice, yet could not seem to put my finger on who it belonged to. Curiously accepting the invitation, I made my way up the stairs. I stopped for a moment to take a gander and admire my modest little dining room: Nothing but a table and a chair with a single pantry available for me to store my personal provisions. There was no one there, however, and the voice called to me again. "What's the holdup down there? You alright?" Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from the fond memories of being able to peacefully eat in my little sunlit dining room to go investigate further.

"There you are," were the first words out of her mouth as I peeked up over the stairwell to catch a first glimpse of my solicitor. Maple was lying on her side across my bed with her eyes half-closed to view me calmly and invitingly. Shockingly, she was actually clothed, but in a way that was even more distressing to my senses. A set of silky black stockings clung to her hooves and up her legs, hugging tight around her flank and shoulders. Her hind end was on its side, but her front was upright to watch me. My first glimpse was of her backside, which was only barely covered by a form-fitting, slim undergarment that snugly embraced her, tail slowly swaying back and forth to draw my attention to the black fabric. The large jade eyes remained on me in a dusky and smoldering gaze as a rumble resounded in her throat from her chuckle at my shocked and dumbfounded expression. "Well? How do I look?" she asked as she folded her front legs before her and craned her neck, flipping her unbound mane to the other side of her neck so I could see more of her cardinal pelt. Before I could answer, she rolled onto her back and reached her front legs above her head to stretch and grasp the headboard. "Comfy perhaps? Why not come over and join me, Benjy? You must be so sore after your desk nap." Blowing a small kiss in the air towards me and wearing a cocky smile, she asked me, "Can I work out some of that tension for you?"

All I could do at first was clear my throat, face-to-flank with what I could only perceive to be inevitable regret. I know my face must have flushed as I felt heat rising off of my cheeks and the temperature in the room seemed to go up another degree every few seconds. "Perhaps... in a moment..." I told her uneasily, unable to conjure up a polite refusal. Sabotage seemed to be in place as my CCMI's media player kicked on and started playing another Jeremy Prowler track, a heavy bass techno with hypnotically repeating lyrics about how good it felt to throw away your cares and drift into the arms of a woman of the night. "I just... want to lock the door." I stammered out as best I could, retreating down the stairwell quickly and striding to the entrance. Instead of locking it, I very quietly opened the door and tried to leave, wanting to disappear to just about anywhere to escape a terribly regrettable mistake.

"Hey, watch it!"

"What?" I asked back as I bumped into someone with my eyes still locked on the bedroom window at the top of my office. Taking a moment to readjust my vision to the outside, I searched for the individual that I had knocked over, and found Willow staring at me rather angrily.

"You call me up here because you need to tell me something, and then just shove me around?" With that, he stood up and slammed his hooves into my shoulders, causing me to stumble in my confusion. "See? Not too cool, is it Prodder? We can both play that game! You don't own me, bro! You-don't-own-me!"

"I... I called you here?" I asked him uncertainly, not having any recollection as to when I might have done so. I rebounded with a rather devious thought as I cleared my throat and adjusted myself, feeling somewhat composed once again. "Ah yes, I wanted to say that I appreciate the hard work you've been doing recently, Willow. There's... an emergency that requires my attention, so we'll have to discuss it later; however, feel free to pick up your bonus from the top floor of my office."

"Bonus? Hot damn! About time that I get some recognition around here! And here I thought you were just being some sort of prick and looking for an ass whupping, Prodder. You're alright. We cool?" He asked me, his tone changing dramatically.

"Yes, we're "cool". Now go ahead and collect your reward. Feel free to find me after I've handled this issue." It was difficult to maintain a straight face as he whistled his way past me into my office and shut the door behind him. Curiosity begged me to stay behind long enough to bear witness to the verbal exchange within my office building, which was muffled but still audible.

"... Whoa! So you're my bonus? Alrighty then, let's get this party started!"

"... Willow!?"

There were only a few muffled sounds before the window above me simply shattered into a cascade of glass rain, followed by the tall carpenter pony who had been used to smash it before plummeting to the ground with a thud right in front of me. Disoriented and dazed, all he could ask was, "Did I just get laid?"

"Prodder!"

As the enraged scream bellowed out of the nonexistent window of my bedroom, I had the feeling this was my cue to become rather scarce. Leaving Willow to his fate, I took off in a dash to the mineshaft. The last place the pegasus would look for me was underground, I reasoned.

After making my way through some of the hollowed segments of the mines past the storage room, I realized that I was actually passing through Teardrop's studio. There were a few sparse pieces of furniture and lots of paint spilled on the floor as well as strewn over the stone walls in all kinds of designs. Easels and stacks of drawings, paintings, and other creations were lying about in an artistic heap in the small domicile. It seems the little mare had adopted the hollowed out section of stone as her own after Silence had moved deeper underground to continue mining. The only reason I knew it was Teardrop's place is because I heard her call to me as I was passing through. I had slowed to a fast-paced walk to try to avoid arousing suspicion or becoming too visible to a rather upset pegasus.

"Mr. Overseer! Just the pony I've been waiting to see..."

Looking back toward the corner, I saw her posed leisurely on a small loveseat that I imagine she had upholstered herself due to its rather eccentric color scheme and improvised composition of random scraps of fabric. Her pose was one that drew my attention, despite how mortified I was by the sight. Lying on her side, one front leg stayed wrapped behind her head while the other grasped the arm of the loveseat in a stretch designed to arch her spine a bit. Her hind legs were spread as one hung off the side, her hoof touching the floor, and the other bent so that the corresponding hoof rested on the other cushion. The only thing blocking my sight of her feminine aspect was her cerulean and pearl colored tail, which had been flipped up to touch her belly. In her mouth was a paintbrush that she wrapped her lips around while watching me, the end of the brush stroking gently against a canvas that had the image already embellished upon it of her in the same position without the courtesy of her tail being used for modesty.

"Could you help me please?"

"N-...No, no I can't..." I responded with some difficulty, shaking my head as the room seemed to become too stuffy and I labored for breath at the sight.

"Oh, please?" she said to me in her high, airy voice with a gentle plea. "I don't want to have to beg, Mr. Overseer," she told me with a twinkle in her eyes. Before I could tell her no once again, she motioned with her head to the painting she was working on, in which the only part of it that had any color apart from just the ink lining was herself on the sofa. "What do you think of this? I want an onlooker's opinion."

Trying to avoid the very correct anatomy of her in the painting, I forced my throat open again with a cough and gritted my teeth to get a hold of myself, forcing my brain back into functioning. My heart was beating so furiously that I had trouble hearing over it. That would explain why I could feel my face turning red once again. "It's... beautiful, Teardrop. I am not really much of a connoisseur though, so you might be better off asking someone else for better criticism than I can give."

"I think you can appreciate it just fine... Please, come take another look. Does it seem accurate? Is that what I really look like?"

"Close enough for a bumpkin like me."

"What about for a discerning eye?"

"Artistic license can fill in the gaps."

"I mean, take a really close look for me."

"I'd rather not."

"Are my legs that long?"

"Sure, why not."

"Is my snout that pointed?"

"Like a sharpened pencil."

"Do I look warm and inviting to you? ... Do I look... ready for you?"

"That can be left to the viewer's discretion."

Despite my attempts to dodge any real answers and disarm the situation, she flicked her tail to remove it from its place and beckoned me over to her uncovered form with a hoof. A smile played on her lips as she moved her tongue around the paintbrush to expertly shift it to the side of her mouth and out of the way so she could speak more clearly. "Now I just have to know where to paint you in this piece... Any ideas, Mr. Overseer?"

"You can keep me where I am, which is gone. Goodbye." With that, I began a jog to the bottom of the mines, leaving behind her calls to me, desperately asking me not to leave her there and telling me how sorry she was. She informed me that she could do better and that she'd try harder, but that's exactly what I was afraid of.

The cold stone of the mines and the consuming darkness I was wandering into was enough reassurance to finally let my heart slow down, and my thoughts return to something other than maddening discomfort and a flurry of other emotions I had not the time or experience to sort through. Needless to say, they just scared me a bit, and all I wanted was to be alone in the mines for a while until things slowed down. There truly is no place to be alone in Songring, however.

Through the darkness, I could see a faint glimmer of flame down one of the pathways, and heard the sound of a pickaxe swinging. Silence was here, I thought, and the sound of her hard at work was a relief as it meant that perhaps she was still sane at this time. Running to the light at the end of the tunnel (both figuratively and literally), I was met with the realization of how deceptive the sounds were.

The pickaxe was no longer being swung, but instead was stuck in the wall. Silence was wearing a dark brown, leather ensemble and covered in a spattering of sparkling glitter that I assume was from shattered gems that she had been chipping out of the wall. The pickaxe was lodged securely enough that Silence rested both legs on it and used it to be bend forward in front of me, looking over at me before I had even arrived with a smile. Her leather gear seemed to be lacking coverage, specifically in the flank area where I could see her cutie mark and a bit of fur on her belly, which led me to believe there was nothing covering her any further than what was in my field of vision. Her mane was damp with sweat, and she drew shallow breaths while she watched me, mouth only slightly open to pant gently in front of me.

"Is this a bad time?" I asked as I was considering just turning around. That is when she assaulted me with an image, one that overtook my vision and forced me to witness something of her design in the form of the pickaxe she was draped over being replaced with myself. The end of the handle was hidden in the grasp of her curled front leg as it sinuously moved in a rubbing motion while her lips were pressed to my bare chest. When the short fantasy subsided, she was still smiling at me in the dim light. She slowly put her mouth around the end of the pickaxe's shaft and giggled in the quiet left by my stunned disbelief.

"You tell me," I heard her project back, tail swishing around a bit of dust as she waited for me to approach.

"Sure thing. It's a bad time because everyone in Songring has gone mad and is ready to go heads down, tails up!” I told her, spinning about on my heel and marching out of the mines. Perhaps I had wasted enough time that I could bolt back to my office without Maple noticing and lock her out, I thought. Teardrop gasped excitedly when I passed by, but I paid her no mind, which only made her whimper unhappily.

"There you are you little tease!" I had just closed the door to the storeroom when I heard Maple's voice from the inclines above me. I looked up to see her cheeky grin staring back down at me with her wings at full spread while she scoped me. "Good try, thinking Willow might be able to take your place, but that's not how it works, little bossman. That surprise was just for you, and I feel like you owe me for the embarrassment of having Willow walk in on me." Her wings flapped once as she threatened to leap off of the ledge towards me, still wearing the black stockings on her front legs. "I can think of an easy way for you to make it up to me though."

"You'll get nothing from me!" I shouted back as my feet began pounding the sand in a full sprint towards the dining hall. Julienne, I thought. Julienne would never let something so unsanitary happen in her kitchen! She'll save me! Those thoughts were all the motivation I needed to power my way over the sandy beach with all of my might towards the uncomfortably empty dining hall and away from the sound of flapping wings behind me. I sped up my entry into the building by grabbing the handle on the inside of the open door and leaping with it in my hand, allowing me to ride with the heavy door's swing so that it slammed shut behind me and simply sent me tumbling in a roll through the dining room. My crash into the chairs and tables was accompanied by a loud smack on the outside of the dining hall as well. I pulled myself from the clutter of wooden furniture and made a dive for the stairwell down into the kitchens.

"Julienne, hey, I was wondering if perhaps I could-... Fuck," I interjected, as I caught my breath and looked up halfway through my request to see what could likely be the worst possible scenario. On the counter, Julienne was lying on her back with her neck propped up against the wall, exposing herself to the view from the stairwell. Her immensely powerful form, rippling with smooth-looking muscles beneath her deep-colored fur, was on display and covered decoratively with a spattering of fluffy white confection. Sweet cream was spread in various places all over her body, and she seemed to be laying back into what was once a fresh cake that rose up around her and lay scattered about on the surrounding counter space. The worst part was that she was not even the one that had heard me.

"We've got a mess down here, Prodder. Great timing... how about you come over here and give me a hoof in cleaning this up?" Daggersides' deep voice rumbled to me as I broke my sight away from the cake and cream covered chef to the unicorn mare beside her. The plump unicorn mercenary pushed her soft stomach against Julienne and wrapped her strong front legs around the reclining mare's torso to bury her snout deep into the fur on the chef’s belly and begin lapping up crumbs of cake and bits of cream with her tongue, causing the pony on the countertop to give a small moan and giggle in delight at the sensation. "... Or a mouth will work too," Daggersides added as she continued to eye me, returning her snout to Julienne's pelt to continue teasing her and tasting the sweet desserts.

It was then that the bulky and muscled unicorn mare turned her lusty gaze to me, her large, warm, and inviting peridot hues glittering with excitement. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi...?" She asked me in her thick accent, taking a deep breath to stifle her moans and gasps emanating from Daggerside's attentions to her. I still do not know what that means, but I can use context clues to assume what she was hinting at.

"You've got to be kidding me." I shook my head, grasping my face in submission to the thought that it was hopeless. Ignoring their calls for me to come join them, I slowly pulled myself back up the stairwell to prepare for the inevitable confrontation with Maple again. It felt more like being caged, despite how big the dining hall was. The doors were still slammed shut, and I could see a collection of mares building outside of the windows of the empty dining hall. Maple continued to beat on the door, angrily calling my name and telling me to stop running and just face her like a man. "What am I going to do?” I asked aloud to no one, losing all hope.

"You could do me, Mr. Benjamen Prodder..."

Turning my head to view the owner of the voice, I saw the worst image that my psyche could ever conjure. Wearing a maid's outfit and bent over a table with a washcloth in his hoof to buff the stone-top furniture, was Overcast, with his tail raised high and his ears pinned back against his head nervously. A sight I have yet to scrub out of my brain. "... What the hell, Overcast? Just... what the hell, man?" I asked him defeatedly, at the end of my rope and ready to just break down into a nervous wreck at any moment.

In a monotone, dreary response, he hung his head to tell me, "They said I should do it, Mr. Benjamen Prodder. Now, how about we get a little better acquainted? If you want to that is, I understand if you don't find me all that pretty. I just wanted to try to be sexy for you is all."

"Mr. Benjamen Prodder?"

"No!" I heard myself shout out of nowhere. A bright flash of white appeared across my vision and everything was blurry as I felt my heart racing and I struggled for breath. I came to grasping at my desk, but before I could control myself, I once again blurted out, "I am not going to have sex with you! That's final!" As I panted for air and took a glance around while my vision returned to me, I saw the comforting engravings of trees and mountains on the stone walls around me, and the floor engraved in the shape of waves. In front of me were the calm and somewhat sad-looking golden eyes I had just been looking into moments ago. Overcast was standing in front of my desk with a worried expression on his face and solemnly watched me as the bright daylight flooded into my office from the floors above.

"That's okay, Mr. Benjamen Prodder. I understand that you're not interested in me physically. I'm sorry for giving you the impression that I was waiting for you to take me. I'll try to keep from flirting with you anymore," the charcoal-colored pony obediently told me, completely unphased as he sat down. "Are you okay though, Mr. Benjamen Prodder? You were making a lot of noise during your desk nap. I thought maybe you were hurt."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, Overcast."

"..."

"... You can leave now, Overcast."

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough, Mr. Benjamen Prodder?"

"You've got three seconds. Three. Seconds."

"Okay."

After that dream, I felt that I could no longer stand enduring the effects of the vexglove alone. I was at a loss as to whom I could call upon. Even Tye Dye, the one of us with the most experience in the field of "herbalism", had no advice for me. I had a problem, and it seemed that there was just nothing anyone could do about it.

Where does everyone go when they hit rock bottom?

It was almost midnight when the thought came to me as I lie awake in bed, truly afraid to go back to sleep for fear of far worse scenarios infiltrating my dreams. Forcing myself to get up, I pulled my clothing back to me and got dressed, fumbling around in the darkness for my shoes, as I prepared to head out.

One would hardly believe it is winter in Songring when wandering through the jungle valley at night. The air remains moist and cool, but certainly never cold. Winds howl high overhead above the passes of the Fatal Horns, but only a light breeze rolls through the trees in the valley, creating a gentle rustling overhead. Winter honestly feels more like autumn here in Songring, minus the vibrant colors. Too bad it never gets cold enough that the tree leaves actually change color.

The pleasant weather helped me on my jaunt to the dining hall in the dead of night, accompanied by the chitters and squawks of nearby fauna and the rumble and croaks of tanks off in the distance. It was much too late for anyone to be in the dining hall, so I had imagined that I would merely take a seat and wait until morning. The time alone would help me think, and perhaps I could catch Absinthe early in the morning when she first got in so that we could speak privately about what had me so bothered.

"Kind of late for you to be skulking about alone, Shug."

I was startled by the voice that greeted me as I swung the door closed. It seemed I was wrong in my assumption, as Absinthe was still behind the counter at the bar and watching me with her front legs folded across it. Curiously, she did not have her usual flirty smile and smarmy quirk to her brow, which I had come to expect, when I saw her glance at me from across the dining hall. She seemed much more solemn this evening: Serene and earnest as she gave a motion for me to approach. "I had thought everyone would have gone to bed by now," I told her. "What are you still doing here? Isn't your shift over?"

"It is. I decided to stick around, as I have every night for a little while now. What about yourself? Finally hit bottom?" she asked me.

"I assume you must know then," I admitted, stepping over to take a seat and fold my hands on the counter in front of her while avoiding eye contact. "I just don't know how much longer I can keep this up. Tye Dye says it was vexglove root." Absinthe simply asked me why I took it. I shrugged in answer. "Experimental. It was one of the herbs we traded our silver for with Val Gathers-Treasures. I figured since we might be seeing the zebra caravan again soon, I needed to find out if we were getting a good deal, or if perhaps they were just using a bit of marketing magic to put unreal prices on just simple plants. I knew some of the other settlers enjoyed the herbs, so I assumed they were not toxic. At least not lethally so."

"Vexglove. That's what has you so run-down these days, Hun?" As I nodded to her, she shook her head to inform me of my mistake. "The vexglove isn't the problem, it's just making the problems visible."

"They aren't problems. At least, there's nothing I can do about them. How is that supposed to help?"

Absinthe looked away from me for a few moments, contemplating my situation before cocking her head back quizzically. "Sweetie, you're trying to ignore these problems, not cope with them. That's not going to work, and it's just going to keep making things worse. Now, before you get frustrated and upset, listen: I want to help. How about you tell me what a couple of those dreams are about and I'll see if maybe we can settle a couple of them. Maybe then you'll be able to... how did you put it? "Use precedence to make sound decisions." How about it? Want to lay some of these worries of yours on me?"

Even after I told her that it would be a long story, she pointed into the darkness outside and cracked a smile. There was plenty of time, she informed me. After sighing in hesitation, I began recalling a few dreams for her. The dreams I had been having regarding Markus Prodder. There were many to tell her: Watching him drink heavily in a bar while he spoke pointlessly with an unrecognizable bartender or surviving excessive amounts of combat. There were the times where he simply lie in a field of wooden spires amidst impaled bodies of soldiers, and he was unconscious as blood oozed from his severed leg. I even told her of the one where he had vanished into thin air while confronting Agent Omega.

"You miss your dad, Hun?" she asked me sweetly, reaching out to touch my face as I stared down at the bar after I finished recalling all I could remember of my dreams about him.

"Never knew him. He left when I was just a little kid, too young to know where he went. I was told that he was dead until just recently. He didn't actually go missing until five years ago." I gently pushed her hoof away from me as I tensed up, biting the inside of my cheek as I tried to stuff away any brooding thoughts about him. "... Just up and left a four-year-old son and never came home. I had a dad growing up, just not my biological one."

"So why are you looking for him?"

I had not really considered that question for a while. Even now, as I flip through the pages of my journal, I don't have an answer. My earliest entries only submit that I must know my past before I can readily look to my future, but is that even a reason that holds any weight with me anymore? With a shrug, I did not know what to say to her.

"What will you do when you find him?" She changed the question, still unable to keep her leg away from me as she sympathetically brought it back to run it over my hair.

"If I find him," I corrected her. "Depends on if he's alive or dead. If he's just a skeleton with a metal leg lying in the forest, then all I will be able to do is give my last respects and be content with the closure. If he's alive..." I felt her grasp my hand after it had balled into a fist as she told me to go ahead and be honest with myself. "... If he's alive, I'm going to find out why he never came home. Why he left us to go fight in some pointless campaign." I did my best then to keep my face dry, but it became difficult when I finally admitted to the both of us the true reason I sought him: "I just want to know why I wasn't important enough for him to come home."

Absinthe let me quietly seethe and loosen my fist in her grasp before she spoke. She was waiting for me to be ready to listen. "That's almost the right question. Do you really think it's because you weren't important? Do you think he just didn't care?"

"Ten years passed and I never heard a word from him. The only reason I figured out he wasn't dead is because he martyred himself and ended up on the news when I was 14. He had the chance to contact me, but he just never did. What does that say to you?" I asked bitterly.

"To me, it says that you're making a lot of assumptions. Ponies have to leave sometimes for reasons other than a lack of concern. What you need to know is just why he never came home. Wondering why he didn't think you were important can wait until you're sure that's what it was. Can't you at least spare your own father, of all ponies, the benefit of the doubt?"

With a slow nod I agreed to her terms and felt a rather heavy weight lifted off my shoulders when I sighed out an "Okay." "I'll give him that much." I still have no idea what other reasons could be so important that ten years could pass without a single contact from him... but she was right. I can spare him, of all people, a bit of doubt. It was then that I described two other dreams for her. The dreams of Sugarlump sitting alone in the post office and Hyacinth playing by herself in an empty playroom.

"That's good to hear." This was all she told me at first, giving me a warm smile as she reached under the counter to get me a glass and began filling it with some fruit juice. When I began to complain about her enjoying my situation, she asked me to hush. "I think it's kind of sweet. You're concerned about how they're doing, aren't you? Any particular reason it's got you tense though? I can imagine you feeling a little homesick... or that you miss them, but it sounds like you're wound up over it. Why is that, Hun?"

It took me a while before I finally realized what she meant. "I made a promise to each of them."

"Do you think you can't keep those promises?"

After many moments, I had to answer with some difficulty. "I don't know anymore. It just seems like time keeps passing and I'm not getting any closer to fulfilling either of them." Absinthe chuckled at me and pushed the juice closer, beckoning me to have a drink.

"As long as you still plan to keep them, don't worry. If it bothers you enough that you can't sleep because of it, then you have a lot less to worry about than you think you do."

It was a bit cryptic, but I can see her point. It is not any easier to get over the feeling of stagnation I harbor as I battle the need to get back to keeping my promises and continuing my own journey, but worrying does not assist me in any way. It was not until she told me that I have plenty of time that I was able to sigh away a bit more tension. It's true: Even if I have nothing else, I do certainly have lots of time. Finally, the time came for me to recount my most recent dream. She watched me silently sip at the juice, stalling in fear of bringing up the next issue that has been bothering me greatly.

"I can tell you're not finished. Come on, Shug, out with it. Is there another one you want to share?"

"... I also dreamt that a few mares in Songring wanted to... well, they wanted to... I don't really want to say it right now."

"They could have wanted to do a lot of things. Kill you? Eat you? Play hopscotch and drink root beer with you? Just take a deep breath and tell me what it was."

Drawing in air deeply as she suggested, I sighed out the word, "Fornicate," feeling it the most proper and least vulgar I could muster in my embarrassment. I just wanted to hide my face, knowing immediately that she would think I was just sexually repressed and the dream was merely my psyche seeking an outlet to express it. I was surprised when the set of her features softened and she simply asked me to be a bit more specific. I then told her a more detailed recount of the dream. Luckily, the only time she laughed is when I mentioned Overcast presenting his rear to me in a maid's outfit, but she let the humor die quickly to keep from embarrassing me. After I had finished, I just stuck the juice cup back to my mouth and kept quiet, unable to look up at her.

"That's an interesting problem, Hun. You want to know what bugs me the most about it though? The way you describe them, those are some very pretty mares you're imagining, yet you're downright terrified of them when they just want to share some intimacy with you. I think the question here is not why you were dreaming about that... but why does the dream bug you so much?"

"Because it's just wrong," I told her, biting my lip when she refused to accept that answer. In what way, she asked. "First, I'm their boss, which is wrong from a business ethics standpoint. Second, they're ponies!" That statement kept her bemused for a few moments, needing to ask me how that mattered at all. "They're... ponies! I shouldn't be feeling that way about them! It's not right!"

I could tell Absinthe had so many questions for me then, but instead she just shook her head and motioned for me calmly with her hoof. "... Hon, I think I know exactly what the matter is. Come around the bar so I can show you something real quick. I have something back here that may make a lot of sense to you." Before I could refuse her fully, she shook her head and motioned again. "Come on now, you wanted me to help. Let me help you."

When I came around the other side of the bar, I was left with no time to ask her exactly what she had to show me. Her hooves slammed loudly against the wooden top of the bar behind us as she reared up and thrust her body atop of me, pinning my back to the bar so that her chest and stomach pressed against my abdomen and locked me beneath her. I was either too shocked or too terrified to scream out for help as she overpowered me and curled her legs so that she embraced me, quietly pressing her snout to my face in a gentle kiss. Even past the confused whine through my nose, she continued to hold me there, turning her velvet-soft lips away from mine and to my ear where she began nibbling on me and whispering quiet sweet-nothings for my comfort. Her steamy breath blew past my tied-back hair as she pressed enough of her weight atop me to hold me down but not cause harm. The closeness and the warmth of her body, as well as the gentle attentions to my ear and my cheek, left me with the feeling that my face was burning once again. Her voice and affectionate touches spurred something in me, no matter how twisted and wrong I kept telling myself it was.

Then she stopped.

Simply holding me there in the torchlight of the empty bar, she stared down with a cocky smile, and just let the moment pass while she waited. For what, I wasn't sure.

"I don't understand," I told her nervously, curling my fingers around the wooden bar to try to secure myself to something, giving me a futile, little feeling of control.

"Just wait a couple more minutes," she told me, slowly pulling her weight off of me to give me more freedom to move. This continued until finally she was standing on her own in front of me, leaving only a single leg draped over my shoulder while she watched as I slowly stood back up as well. Confused and speechless, I could only shake my head to her in misunderstanding, unable to comprehend what she had just tried to prove. "... And then nothing happened," she said to me with a knowing smile, rubbing my shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that nothing happened. You didn't blow up, you didn't die, and you didn't get sent to the moon or anything. Nothing happened, Sweets. I don't know exactly what you're worried about, but what I wanted you to know from experience is that nothing bad is going to happen to you just from being close with somepony."

"It's still wrong though..."

Absinthe then gave me a stern look, ceasing her rubs as she pulled me closer to look straight into her eyes. Captivated by her gaze, I couldn't pull away. "Is that what you believe, or is that what somepony has told you? Benjamen, your emotions are yours and your alone, not anypony else's. They have no right to dictate your heart. Do you understand that? Do you truly know what that means? Just as you cannot enforce such things in others... don't you ever let anypony else dictate what feelings are ‘right’ or ‘wrong’." As I simply watched her and tried to soak in everything she told me, I felt her shake my shoulder to jostle me back to reason. "That's a right all beings deserve to have. Tell me you understand, Ben. I'm not going to let this go until you get it."

"I understand."

"Good," she accepted, releasing my shoulder and backing away to let me pass her and wander back to the safety of the other side of the bar. "What you do with it from here is up to you, and that's the whole point. It's up to you." At that, she turned her back to me to insinuate that she had finished her time with me as she reached down to put some water in a bucket and began freezing it with her horn to create ice for the morning crowd that would be here within the next hour.

"... Thank you," I told her quietly, feeling lost and vulnerable when the strict and suffocating confines that dictated most, if not all, of my interactions had been shattered by her in just a matter of minutes.

"You're welcome... Now go get some sleep, Benjy. You've had a rough go of it. You deserve it, okay?"

That night, last night, was the first decent sleep I have had in a long while. I believe I will be returning to my bed now to try to catch up on the staggering amount of rest that I have missed while enduring the complications of the vexglove. I still dream, and they are still very vivid... but they no longer cause my heart to race and to wake me up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

Perhaps everything comes down to perception.